by Kait Nolan
“I should go,” she said. Talk me out of it.
“Current book boyfriend won’t be put off any longer, huh?”
A smile fluttered at the edge of her lips. “He’s been awfully patient today.”
Brandon nodded, conceding defeat. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Damn it.
On the walk back to the parking lot, Isabelle reflected that Leah had truly craptastic timing. Her appearance had broken whatever spell Brandon had woven over the day, reminding her of all the things she’d neglected for this unplanned romp in the snow. She wished Leah’s phone had died, as hers had. Glancing up at Brandon out of the corner of her eye, she wished a lot of things. That he hadn’t pulled back up on the mountain. That she hadn’t been interrupted. Now both moments were past, and she didn’t know how to recapture the relaxed, casual flirtation.
They reached the Subaru.
“Well, here we are,” she said.
“Here we are,” said Brandon.
Isabelle fiddled with the keys in her mittenless hand, wondering if she could work up the guts to try to kiss him and if she could pull it off without the whole thing being weird and awkward.
“I had a lot of fun today. I’m not that great at fun, so…thanks.” She dared a look up at him.
His expression was sober, but she could tell he was laughing with his eyes. It got her back up and killed some of the nerves.
“What?” she demanded.
“That’s a sad, sad state, not being any good at fun,” he said.
Embarrassment and irritation warred, and Isabelle dropped her gaze.
“I’m duty bound, as an ambassador of fun, to see that you continue with your lessons.”
Her head shot up at that.
“So, I’m gonna need your last name and phone number,” he finished. His mouth quirked. “For professional purposes only.”
Isabelle felt her lips twitch. “Naturally. It’s Lawson.”
He pulled out his phone and waited as she gave her number.
“Mine’s dead,” she said, “so you’ll have to call me.”
Brandon punched something in. “There. Now you’ll have a text from me when yours has juice again.” He shoved the phone into his pocket.
“Good thinking.” She knew she’d be plugging the thing into a charger as soon as she got into the car.
“You have work, so I’ll see you around.”
“See you around,” she said.
He stepped back and started toward the slopes again.
A sense of disappointment zinged through her. Before she could think better of it, she called after him, “Hey Brandon?”
“Yeah?”
She checked her watch, did some mental calculations. “Devin and Tess should be firmly ensconced in their happily ever after by six-thirty. I’ve gotta eat. Do you have plans for dinner?”
He smiled and crossed back to her. “Just to meet you. One condition, though.”
“What’s that?”
“We start with dessert first.” Brandon stepped close, boxing her in against the car so she had to lift her head to keep his gaze.
“I’m amenable to that,” she said.
“Great,” he murmured. One corner of his mouth kicked up as he slid a hand beneath the fall of her hair to cup her nape and tip her face up to his. His other hand curved around her hip.
Isabelle expected sweet, maybe a bit of playful, as that was the impression he’d given all day. But Brandon surprised her yet again. He took his time closing the small distance between them, his gaze caressing her face before fixing on hers. Her pulse jumped in anticipation and nerves quivered in her belly. Waiting. Waiting.
He kept his eyes open, something she’d read about but always thought strange. Somehow it intensified the sensation of warmth as his lips slanted over hers. The sensation spread down her body until she forgot the wind and snow and cold. It was like being wrapped in melted caramel, delicious and decadent. On a little purr, she rose to her toes, running her hands up his chest and shoulders to thread into the hair that escaped his hat. Brandon tugged her closer, settling his mouth more firmly over hers, kissing her as if he had all the time in the world to make sure he did the job justice.
Isabelle didn’t know who pulled back. She was pretty sure the world was spinning drunkenly around them and was positive her feet weren’t actually on the ground.
Brandon dropped his temple to hers. “Wow.”
She let out another hum of approval. “Who would’ve thought the payback for Vegas would be so sweet.”
“Huh?”
Isabelle shook her head to clear it. “Long story, that. I’ll tell you about it over dinner.”
Other Books By Kait Nolan
Contemporary Romance
Wishful Series
Once Upon A Coffee (Avery and Dillon): Available for FREE!
To Get Me To You (Cam and Norah): Available for FREE!
Be Careful, It’s My Heart (Tyler and Brody)
Know Me Well (Liam and Riley)
Once Upon A Setup (A Meet Cute Romance with Piper and Myles!)
Just For This Moment (Myles and Piper)
Wish I Might (Reed and Cecily)
Turn My World Around (Tucker and Corinne)
Wishing For a Hero Series (A Wishful Spinoff Series)
If I Didn’t Care (Judd and Autumn)
Meet Cute Romance
Once Upon A Snow Day
Once Upon A New Year’s Eve
Once Upon An Heirloom
Once Upon A Coffee: Available for FREE!
Once Upon A Setup
Meet Cute Romance: Volume 1 (Meet Cutes 1-5)
Paranormal Romance
Mirus Series:
Genesis (an omnibus including, Forsaken By Shadow (Mirus 1.1), Devil’s Eye (Mirus 1.2), and Blindsight )
Riven
Whisper of Shadow (Also available in the Magical Mayhem anthology)
YA Paranormal Romance:
Red
Whisper of Shadow
Sneak Peek From Once Upon A New Year’s Eve
“Hello Gemma.”
She stopped mid-step and her focus narrowed on blue eyes she hadn’t seen in a decade but remembered like it was yesterday.
In all the honky tonks, in all the towns, in all the South, you had to walk into this one.
She actually felt all the maturity, all the layers of poise and composure she’d worked for slip away as nerves began to dance a rumba in her belly and her tongue tied itself in knots. Just like that, she was fifteen again, with a crush on her brother’s best friend. A crush that got totally shot down.
Aaron Hendricks smiled at her, flashing that slightly crooked incisor and she felt a blast of very adult heat blow through her system, complicating the nerves with a healthy dose of pure chemistry that scrambled her brain. Oh. My. God.
“Aaron,” she said. Her voice came out breathless. Mortification flared bright. She could feel the color rising in her cheeks and hoped the lousy lighting was low enough to hide it. The need to escape beat in her blood. No. No, she couldn’t deal with this, couldn’t deal with him.
“What are you doing here?” she managed, tightening her grip on Rick, who was only semi-conscious by now.
“I think Red went through Rick’s entire contact list. I got the voicemail, so I came to get him.”
Because Aaron was still the dedicated, responsible friend in the bunch. She’d always liked that about him.
“I’m taking him home,” she said. Under other circumstances, she might’ve cringed at the brusque, dismissive tone. She wasn’t rude, as a rule. But she didn’t trust herself to speak without stumbling over her own tongue.
“I think that’s a good idea. Let me help you with that.”
“No!” Gemma snapped. God, she didn’t want him helping. She wanted to get away as fast as humanly possible. “Jason and I have got him.”
Jason, who’d readily offered his assistance when she’d nearly face-planted off the stage with he
r brother, eyed Aaron with suspicion. “This guy hassling you?”
“No,” said Gemma, suddenly exhausted. The last thing she needed was some kind of testosterone showdown. “He’s fine. We’re fine. Let’s just get my brother outside.” She glanced over.
Aaron was still there, still looking concerned, still looking delicious as ever with those broad shoulders her hands itched to stroke and that sensual mouth that had starred in countless sexy dreams.
“Let’s go,” said Gemma, tugging their little trio toward the exit.
Aaron skirted around them, moving to Jason and starting to reach for Rick. “Look, man, thanks for your help, but he’s my friend. Why don’t you let me—”
“We’ve got this,” Gemma snarled, taking a firmer grip on her brother. “Thanks.”
Aaron jolted back as if she’d slapped him, but Gemma was beyond caring. If she had her way, she’d never see him again, so it hardly mattered.
Almost a year. A year back in Memphis and she’d manage to avoid running into him. She could make that happen again. It wasn’t like they ran in the same circles.
“Who’s that?” mumbled Rick.
“No one important,” she said softly. “C’mon. Just keep moving with us here.”
Aaron fell back and let them pass. After the noisy, stuffy heat of the roadhouse, the cool air of the parking lot was a balm to Gemma’s aching head.
“Rick, where did you park?”
He struggled to lift his head, squinting at the rows of vehicles. “Somewhere.”
“What’s he drive?” asked Jason.
“Black F150. Supercab.”
That didn’t narrow the field much. They both scanned the lot.
“That it? Back left corner. Two tone with the tan on the bottom?”
Gemma followed Jason’s gaze. “Yeah. Come on, big brother. Let’s get you home.”
They skirted around the truck with steamed up windows, where the couple she’d seen on her arrival had disappeared. The light out here was lousy, not extending far beyond the pools cast by the floodlights mounted on the corner of the building. With a litany of silent prayers for her ankles and shoes, they made it to Rick’s truck.
“I’ve got him,” said Jason. “You get the door open.”
Relinquishing Rick, Gemma unlocked the truck, pulled open the passenger side door. The seat was covered with files, his briefcase, and the other detritus he hadn’t gotten around to stowing from the work days earlier in the week. Gemma shoved the lot of it into a banker’s box in the floorboard and shifted the box into the backseat.
“There. Okay, Rick. In you go.”
“He’s out now.”
Great. Gemma held in a string of curses. How the hell was she going to get him in the house? Maybe she’d just bring a blanket out to him and let him sleep it off in the truck.
She crawled into the backseat herself and pulled as Jason pushed. Between the two of them, they managed to get Rick and all his appendages into the truck and buckled in.
“Finally.” Gemma took the hand Jason offered and climbed out of the narrow backseat. She turned to shut the suicide door. “Thanks for your help.”
When she turned back around, Jason was inches away, mouth curved into a smile that raised the hair on Gemma’s arms. “My pleasure,” he said, planting his arms on either side of her to cage her against the truck. Alarms began to blare in her head as the first wash of fear had her heart beginning to pound.
“Um, look, Jason, I—”
“Just thought you might want to show your appreciation. I had a few ideas.”
Obviously, she thought. Screw the shoes. The stiletto heels were practically weaponized. If one broke when she brought it down on his instep, so be it. But even as Gemma lifted her foot, Jason pulled back.
No, he was being pulled back.
Aaron spun Jason neatly away and placed himself in front of her as a shield. And damn it if that didn’t just get her heart racing for a whole other reason.
“I expect you do have a few ideas,” he said. “Let me go ahead and advise you that they’re bad ones. A gentleman doesn’t expect payment for helping a lady out. So why don’t you go on back to Red’s and find somebody more receptive to your advances.”
For a moment, Gemma thought Jason was going to argue, but evidently he decided she wasn’t worth it. With a rude remark under his breath, he turned and headed back for the bar.
Thank God.
Aaron watched him go, shoulders rigid until the other man went inside. Then he turned to her, eyes still hot. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks for that.”
She could see the temper warring on his face, waited for the confrontation about why she didn’t want his help. Instead he said, “Rick’s out cold. You’ll never get him in the house on your own. I’m following you home.”
Gemma opened her mouth but he interrupted before she could speak.
“Don’t argue with me, Gemma. At least you know I won’t try to molest you.”
It made her feel small and petty. She hunched her shoulders defensively. “I wasn’t going to argue. I was going to say thank you.”
Aaron relaxed a bit. “Okay then. I’m parked on the drive. I’ll follow you out.”
Pick up your copy of Once Upon A New Year’s Eve today!
Wishful, Mississippi. From the post Civil War fountain on the town green, to the gossip served along with grits and coffee at Dinner Belles Diner, it will always be Campbell Crawford’s hometown–preferably just as it is. The way he sees it, the corporate big-box store that wants to unpack on the outskirts threatens everything he holds dear, but the town’s economy demands some kind of change. He’s not sure city girl Norah Burke can possibly understand Wishful enough help him turn things around–no matter how much his dog loves her. Norah falls for the charms of the town as hard as she falls for the charms of the man, and she’s determined to help. But even if they can get the votes to send the suits packing and get the town on its feet again, can she really give up her corner office and power lunches for the corner booth at the local diner? What’s a nice executive like her going to do in a place like this?
Excerpt To Get Me To You
“Let’s step outside for some air,” he said. There were things he wanted—needed—to give voice to, and the middle of a crowded dance floor wasn’t the place.
She nodded once and let him guide her by way of a hand at the small of her back toward the back door. By grace of the frigid temperatures, the porch designated for outdoor dining and smoking was empty. Norah went straight to the railing and leaned against it, lifting her face to the sky. Cam resisted the urge to move in behind her, boxing her in, and instead leaned beside her, his arm brushing hers.
“I miss simple.” She sighed and tipped her head against his arm. “I miss you.”
He hadn’t expected the admission and credited lowered inhibitions due to the Three Furies. “You don’t have to. I’m not going anywhere. And neither have you, not yet.”
“But I will. Not tomorrow. Probably not next week. I don’t know when I’m leaving. But I have to start taking control of my life again. If that conversation with my father did anything, it lit a fire under me to finally start facing the long job search. I can’t keep putting it off.”
He was losing her, back to the life she’d come here to escape. Because he was perilously close to begging, Cam kept his mouth shut, fisting both hands around the railing until the wrought iron began to creak.
She mistook the reason for his silence. “I promise you, I won’t go until Wishful is safe. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
He believed her. And cursed himself for wishing more danger on his town, just so she’d stay.
If he said nothing now, if he let her walk away, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
Cam turned her to face him. “Isn’t it worth grabbing whatever happiness we can, while we can?” He could feel the pull between them, always the pull.
Her yearning to give into it w
as written clearly on her face. But mixed with it was equal parts sadness and resignation. “It isn’t about happiness.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because there are bigger things at stake.”
“I get that you’ve got this mission, this purpose. I support that. Hell, I asked you to take it on. But that doesn’t mean you can’t take something for yourself. Even Wonder Woman had Steve Trevor.”
“You’re no Steve Trevor.”
Before Cam could process the insult of that, she was reaching up, cupping his jaw. “Steve Trevor didn’t recognize what was right in front of him. You actually see me.”
What Cam saw was a brilliant, beautiful woman with an inexplicably fast hold on his heart and a mule-headed resistance to taking it. He might’ve said any number of things to try to persuade her, or he might’ve just given in and kissed her, as he’d wanted to do pretty much since the moment he’d stopped. But Fate, cruel bitch that she was, had other plans in the form of his meddling cousin, who came barreling out the door like an overgrown golden retriever.
Mitch drew up short, his mouth dropping open as he took in their embrace in a glance. “I…uh…just came to say the food’s ready. And Miranda’s here.”
“Great. I’m starved,” said Norah. She tapped Cam’s cheek gently. “Thanks for the dance, Leonidas.” She stepped away from him with the grace that completely eluded her on the dance floor and made her way to the door with the careful deliberation of the inebriated.
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